


Hot Apple Cider

by Whuffie



Series: Cozy Autumn Prompts [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, Drabble, Fun, Humor, light - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27061267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whuffie/pseuds/Whuffie
Summary: Alistair avoids trouble at the Pearl.Prompt: Hot Apple CiderPairing: NoneTime Period: During the BlightRating: TeenWarnings: There is flirting with an uncomfortable Alistair before it’s clear he’s saying “no.” This isn’t intended to be harassment but if you think it might make you uncomfortable, please skip this fic.
Series: Cozy Autumn Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975045
Kudos: 1





	Hot Apple Cider

How did Reginald keep talking him into things? Somehow, Alistair’s fellow Warden managed to convince him a trip to the Pearl was necessary to deliver a letter for the Blackstone Irregulars. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but once they arrived, Reginald predictably lingered for an hour. He offered to pay Alistair’s way so he could also “unwind” but it wasn’t tempting.

Instead, the young warrior found himself parked on a bench behind one of the few tables. The fire was roaring against the coming Ferelden winter, and he could at least admit it was nice to be indoors for a while. Their tents were getting colder every night, mixing with rain which would turn into snow. For the first time in weeks, he was warm, dry and not worried about darkspawn popping out of the ground without so much as a polite greeting. Darkspawn were so unreasonable that way.

Keeping his eyes firmly glued to the top of the table, he laced and unlaced his fingers, resolutely studying the very uninteresting woodgrain. There was at least one woman staring at him, and he didn’t want to give the wrong impression. Once Reginald was done with his ... room... they could leave.

A steaming tankard inched into his line of sight, forcing him to look up. A shapely arm was responsible for the delivery. At the end of it was an exposed shoulder, and that was connected to a very impressive bust. With some deep breathing he was sure wasn’t completely necessary for someone who wasn’t running away from volleys of arrows or charging mabari, she showed him a new way of defying gravity. It must have been magic, because somehow the deep scoop of her non existent neckline stayed in place in spite of her ample chest.

Noticing him, she cupped her hands beneath the generous view and wiggled to “adjust” her clothes. By the same strange magic, she didn’t overflow. He blinked, tearing his gaze away. “Well hello,” she said in a smoky voice, slipping into a seat beside him.

“Hello,” he responded cautiously then avoided eye contact with a giant gulp from his tankard. He’d been expecting something alcoholic, but the tang of fresh apple and cinnamon warmed his tongue. Genuinely distracted he looked into it. “Hot apple cider?”

“Mmm hmm.” She walked her fingers playfully from his knee along the inside of his thigh. “Something to get you warmed up so you can get hot.”

He scooted out of her reach like the seat of his pants had been set on fire. “It’s good!” His voice cracked and he packed a little too much enthusiasm into two words.

Trying to evade one person kept him from noticing the ambush. Another woman with nearly as little covering her many appealing curves plopped on his opposite side. Together, they hemmed him in. “You’re not going to try and keep this one all to yourself?” the second woman asked as she brushed her fingertips through Alistair’s hair. While she did it, she leaned forward to give him a good view of hills and valleys which never showed up on any Ferelden map. “You’re so cute. I could give you a discount.”

“I bet you’re fun,” the other woman chimed, breathing in his ear. “I can tell you’ve got something very, very nice hidden under that armor.”

“No,” he protested adamantly and face flaming. “Nothing interesting about me!” When the first one giggled, he didn’t miss the way the ripples made things bounce. 

“So modest.” A pair of lips aimed for his ear and he almost sank under the table to avoid the trap. They both looked bemused. “We’re willing to give you a discount,” the first insisted, leaning slightly toward him. “For the two of us. We won’t tell.”

Unfortunately, he picked the precise moment to scramble upright and almost planted his face in the middle of a place he might not have minded if it was a different woman who he really liked, and she cared about him. Add a few wet frocks and it could have been one of his more interesting daydreams, but brothels weren’t really for him. “I’m sure you’re worth it,” he babbled, trying not to insult either of them. It wasn’t as if they weren’t very pretty. He was sure they would gladly do exactly what they said and if he were more like Reginald, he’d thoroughly enjoy it.

“What’s wrong?” the second woman asked as she traced his bottom lip with a fingertip. “Can’t you pay?”

Deflecting the attention with another gulp of cider, he hid in his tankard for a few minutes before he had to come out for air. “It isn’t that,” he told them sincerely, removing another hand from his thigh. “I’m here waiting for a friend. I’m not,” he swallowed and had to remind himself that there might be a part of him which was very tempted, but he didn’t actually want to ... kaboodle. He wanted his first time to be special, and with someone important. “I’m not really interested - but you’re both very pretty,” he added hastily.

The pair stopped trying to find ways to entice him, and the first peered at him seriously. “You’re really only here waiting for someone?” She sounded skeptical.

“And not interested at all?” the second added in a tone of puzzlement.

“I’m sure you’re both,” he balked, staring at his cider again, “very,” he flailed for a word and finished with a lame, “good. Under other circumstances I might even want to.”

“But?” one of them prompted.

“But I’m not interested right now.” He wasn’t going to explain all the reasons but managed to say it with sincere firmness.

“Well.” A pause then the first extended a slender hand. “Then I’m Chloe and this is Alura.”

The second name certainly fit, but he didn’t say anything aloud. Instead, he shook her hand awkwardly.

“You’re still cute,” Alura told him with a playful ruffle to his hair. “Would you like some more cider while you wait?”

Pleasantly surprised, he smiled as he glanced up and nodded. “Yes, actually. I would.” He extended the tankard and she whisked off to refill it.

Sitting back down, she refrained from pressing her hip against him and left him a little space. “It’s a slow night. What do you say, Chloe? Snapdragon?”

Chloe glanced at the nearly empty building and the lounging men and women chatting or sipping drinks while they waited for potential customers. “You’d think with all the soldiers in Denerim that business would be better, but we’re slow today. I’d love to play a few hands. What about you, cute and shy? Care for a game until we’re needed?”

“Alistair,” he introduced himself, “it’s Alistair. You really want to play Snapdragon?” It was a child’s strategy game, and he expected Diamondback or something more bawdy.

“Sometime, when things are slow like they are today.” Chloe stood up to fetch a deck of worn cards and cider for herself and Alura. After she shuffled for several minutes she put the stack in the center of the table. “Cut the deck.”

Alistair did so, and Chloe dealt them each a hand. “Just so we’re clear,” she teased, “winning won’t gain you anything except a quick peck on the cheek.”

Those were stakes he could agree to, and with a relieved sigh, he sipped his cider.


End file.
